It's What the Fans Want, Dammit!
by Vaya
Summary: What do the fans want to see. How does David Kemper decide what goes on?


Category: Humor  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Disclaimer: Farscape and it's characters are the property of Hallmark Entertainment. David Kemper pretty much owns himself.  
I don't own anything except my stereo, a few cd's, incense, some jewelry, and debt to the wonderful people at Bank of America.   
I certainly don't own these guys, who'd want to? Think of all the trips to the police dept. :)   
  
Spoilers: If you haven't been watching, you won't know what's going on.  
  
Summery: What do fans want from Farscape? Does David Kemper know?  
  
Ok, this is a stab at the dark, I wasn't gonna do it, but my horoscope said today was the day to do something creative....and who am I to argue with great whirling lumps of rock light years away?   
  
This is a little crude, so if you don't think you're gonna like it, don't read it and tell me how crude I am. If, however, you read it, and don't like it for creative reasons, please tell me, so I can do better next time.   
  
And remember.....   
It's just something to laugh at and have fun with!  
  
:):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):)   
  
On the fish-like ship called Moya, things were actually calm. In fact, it was so calm, the occupants were getting ready for whatever space threat invariably interrupted calmness.   
  
"I so need a vacation." thought John Chichton as he walked though the halls toward the cargo bay, for no better reason than that a piece of paper told him to go there.   
  
In fact, what it had said was, "John enters Cargo Bay, has romantic interlude with Aeryn.." and that in itself was all the prompting he needed. Although he knew it wouldn't amount to anything, because she would push him away, going on about "peacekeeper training", "emotions in battle", "I have a headache", "your completely farbot", and "not now, we're being shot at."   
  
There was always a reason.   
  
Perhaps if he just kissed her, they wouldn't have this problem. It seemed that every time they did, it became a major, physical exercise, landing them both on the floor.   
  
He entered the bay, and she was working on what looked suspiciously like a prowler, that had been thrown together by the props department with what looked horribly like duct tape.   
  
He came up to her and simply pecked her on the cheek, she seemed pleased and they started talking.   
  
"CUT!" A strange man in Earth clothes came out waving his hands around, "What was that?"   
  
"What?" asked John, "I did what I was supposed to..."   
  
"A peck, John? That's not what the fans want! They want to see full blown kissing, you know, tonsil hockey!"   
  
John folded his arms, "Says you. How do we know that's what they want?"   
  
"They're watching, aren't they? They say they want to see you together, but I know better, they want tension!"   
  
John thought about it, looked at Aeryn, and then turned back to him. "In that case, screw the fans, David, I want a normal relationship."   
  
"Me too." said Aeryn, "I hate this, the writers come up with worse excuses every week!"   
  
David Kemper looked down, rubbed his head and his face, thinking about what to do, and when his next trip to the barber was.   
  
He came to a decision and faced them. "Right. Let's get one thing straight, you two are never gonna have a normal relationship and you know it."   
  
They both looked down and nodded reluctantly, he was, after all, right.   
  
"You both know, you just want to have sex."   
  
They looked at him, guiltily. "yes" they both murmured.   
  
"Right!" he pulled out a cell phone, "alright, tell the writers that John and Aeryn are going to have an intimate encounter in the next episode, but its got to be full of tension......right.....uh-huh...wait a microt," he took off a shoe and looked inside, "ah, size 9, " he put the shoe back on, "also, before I forget, we've decided that there must be a character dying at all times.....right, I think we'll hit Chiana this week, maybe Rygiel next.....what?....oh yeah, thanks for reminding me, yeah, bye."   
  
He put the phone away, "I almost forgot, John. Seeing how a lot of the women, or should I say, male-oriented people, on the BBoard have been trying to lay claim to the keepership of your nice butt, I've decided to buy it myself."   
  
John's eyes went wide, "What?" he exclaimed.   
  
"Actually, it's just the rights to it, "he snickered, " hey now I can say I own your ass!"   
  
He laughed loudly as he withdrew to offset.   
  
John and Aeryn stood there, staring after him a microt.   
"Did we win that one?" he asked nervously.   
  
She bit her lip, "I don't know." She sighed, "Oh well, I suppose we should start fighting about your hormones."  
  
The end! 


End file.
